How to Kennel a Killer: Sleuthin' in Boots, #2

By Cat Clayton

Autumn in Pleasant Hills, Texas is about sipping pumpkin spice lattes, costume contests, and filling trick or treat bags, but not this year. Because something wicked this way wags!

 

As southern and sassy Steely Lamarr, her chatty Chihuahua, and the Scrubadub gang organize the annual pet costume contest, they hit a wall when the contest judge—the town librarian—winds up dead. Between the pages of the beloved woman's journal, Steely discovers the quirky librarian may have met an untimely death through a connection on a dating app.

 

As the president of the Citizens on the Watch, Steely believes it's her civic duty, along with her motley crew, to assist the ever-so-hunky Officer Jackson and the Buckleville PD to bring a killer to justice.

 

Can Steely figure out who murdered the librarian and keep herself out of the crosshairs from a venomous villain?

 

Praise for the 1st editions of the Sleuthin' in Boots series:

"Lighthearted, funny, and oh so Texan!" 

"A fun, fresh read!" 

"A hilarious wacky page turner!" 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cat Clayton
• Release date: Jul 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201465391

Book preview

Other books by Cat Clayton

How to Leash a Thief, Sleuthin’ in Boots, Book 1—June 2021

How to Fetch a Felon, Sleuthin’ in Boots, Book 3—Aug. 2021

How to Muzzle a Murderer, Sleuthin’ in Boots, Book 4—Sept. 2021

Praise for Steely & Cuff Mysteries:

Mysterious fun in Small Town, Texas! ~ Amazon Reviewer

"Grab a cup of coffee, a piece of pie, and snuggle

up with Steely & Cuff!" ~Goodreads Reviewer

Steely & Cuff—crime-solving duo! ~Amazon Reviewer

To Jessica, my firstborn, and the inspiration behind the sassy, camo boot-wearing, and strong-willed Steely Lamarr.

How to Kennel a Killer

Chapter 1

Staring at the single name on the roster for the Halloween pet costume contest, I concluded if we didn’t get more entries, there wouldn’t be a contest. And no contest meant zero donations to the Pleasant Hills Animal Rescue, a long-standing, annual goal of Scrubadub.

Think, Steely. Normally, a week before our shop’s costume contest, folks flooded us with entries. But not this year. Why?

The desk phone rang, startling me. The caller ID read Pleasant Hills City Library. Petunia Jinks, the one person who’d signed up her pet for the contest.

Scrubadub, Three Pups in a Tub. Steely speaking.

Hi, it’s Petunia. I need to discuss something about the pet parade and the costume contest.

Should I tell her there may not be a contest? There was no reason to dampen her spirits, too.

What can I do for you?

She cleared her throat. Well, I had a rather unpleasant visit this morning from Vivienne Peacock about the event.

When were visits from Mrs. Peacock ever pleasant?

Regarding what exactly? I asked.

Vivienne had the nerve to ask me not to enter Patches this year. She claims nobody stands a chance against us, and after four years of winning the pet costume award, I should withdraw our entry. She even started a petition to get us booted out. She panted.

Vivienne Peacock, of course she was the culprit.

Well, Vivienne doesn’t get to dictate who signs up. Don’t pay her any mind.

Petunia grunted and panted more.

Are you okay?

Not really. I went running this morning with Lizzie Madden. Now, I’m sprucing up the flower beds for the parade. I can’t seem to catch my breath. I’m feeling exhausted and a tad nauseous.

Maybe you ought to take a break. Rest a bit.

Good idea. I had coffee after the run. Maybe it’s not agreeing with me. Anyway, if you don’t think I should worry about what Vivienne said, I’ll disregard it.

She panted and spat a few curse words into the phone. I heard rushing water.

Oh no! I need to go. It seems I have a problem!

All right, we’ll talk—

The call disconnected.

A few seconds later, the phone rang again. Pleasant Hills City Library.

Scrubadub, Steely speaking.

Heavy breathing sounded in my ear. A grunt. And then, silence.

Petunia? Are you there? What’s wrong?

The line went dead.

I surveyed the lobby full of clients, hoping I didn’t cause anyone alarm. Everyone either had their nose glued to their phone screen or a magazine.

Petunia probably carried the library phone in her pocket. Maybe she pocket-dialed by accident. It happens. To put my mind at ease, I dialed the library’s phone number. The phone rang four times and the automated voicemail picked up. I left a message for Petunia to call me back.

I glanced at the dog clock on the wall. 10:45 AM. I could wait around for her to return the call, or I could walk to the library and make sure everything was okay. To put my mind at ease, I chose the latter.

I hopped down from the stool, hollering to Gertie and Daniel. I’m running over to the library to check on Petunia!

Cuff slid around the corner on wet paws and collided into the front desk.

You cannot leave me behind, Chiquita!

Cuff, my cheeky Chihuahua, was a literal little guy. Ever since we’d gotten tangled up, and I took a nose-dive into a wooden desk, I’d been able to hear his thoughts. Some kind of strange accident-induced telepathy. Although, some days, I wondered if I hadn’t lost my marbles and it was all in my head.

Fine, you can come with me.

The front door opened with a jingle.

Wren and Lotus breezed in, ten minutes late for their appointment. Wren owned No Place Like OM, a yoga studio a few doors down. Her lab and pit mix was a total sweetheart. I smiled and walked back inside along with them.

So sorry we’re late, Steely! Wren’s voice tinkled like windchimes. Dressed for class, she wore a teal sarong wrapped around a trendy yoga outfit. Her feet were bare, as usual. She breezed up to the counter.

Hi, Wren. No worries. How’s the studio? I checked the computer screen. Lotus had a 10:40 AM appointment, a Daniel’s Delight.

I’d only seen Wren a few times since my unfortunate encounter with her ex-fling. Blake Welton—who’d covered up a murder his uncle committed, and robbed a bank—had tried abducting me once I figured out whodunit. I’d taken my position as head of the Citizens on the Watch program very seriously. I still did. Maybe a little too seriously.

Wren grinned and pulled out a piece of paper from her sling bag. You are totally signing up for my next beginner’s class. I’m insisting! She pushed the paper in front of me.

I don’t have time for this. I need to get to the library.

Oh, you think so, huh? I scanned the flyer. I don’t know, Wren. I’m not much for stretching and I have a lot going—

You must! Please! Nobody has signed up for it yet. Ever since my unfortunate relationship with that no-good murdering bank robber, nobody new will sign up! It’s so upsetting, she said, her eyes woeful. I’m usually so good at reading people.

Don’t feel bad. Blake Welton fooled everyone. But I’m sorry your business is suffering. I set the flyer to the side. What day and time is the class?

Mondays at 5:30 PM. You don’t even need a mat, I have plenty.

Guess I have no excuse. Sign me up. And I’ll try to get Daniel to sign up, too.

Really? That would be fabulous! She squealed.

I can’t make any promises for Daniel, but I’ll be there Monday. I had three days to get flexible, or I’d make a total fool of myself. I need to run. Daniel will be out for Lotus soon.

Can’t make any promises about what? Daniel sashayed into the lobby. Lotus, my beauty queen! He bent over and gave her black, silky coat a rub down.

Yoga. Mondays. You in? I headed for the door with Cuff figured-eighting between my feet.

I am going, Chiquita. Do not leave me!

Yoga? I’m down! Daniel said. Get it? Downward dog.

Punny, I said.

I’m in, too! Gertie said, waddling into the lobby. So long as I can borrow some yoga pants, Steely. Your Pop threw all my leggings in the trash.

As he well should have. My Gramma Gertie had a thing for wearing clothes that didn’t fit her or were inappropriate for her age. I’m sure I had something in my closet to accommodate her.

I gave her a thumbs up regarding the yoga pants.

Good thing she cannot get to your boots any longer.

When I didn’t have my beloved camo boots on, I kept them hidden upstairs in a closet. Now that we lived above the shop, and not at Pop’s house with him and Gertie, she no longer had free access to my things.

Oh, this will be wonderful! I’ll be back after my next class to pick up Lotus. Namaste!

We’ll see you later, I said.

Nama-stay! Gertie said in her best southern twang. Wren twinkle-toed out the door. She’s sweet. And speakin’ of sweet, when’s lunch? I’m hungry.

Aren’t you always? I thought. After we finish up appointments and I return from the library. Daniel, if you’ll take Lotus back, I’ll check the others in on the computer and put them in their kennels before I leave.

Still waiting in the lobby, Ms. Chen, a young high school English teacher with long, silky black hair, gripped a brown leather leash. A stunning rust-colored Doberman pinscher sat obediently at her side. Princess, who should’ve been named Demon, growled at Mr. Walton and Sid, his black lab, sitting across the room.

Mr. Walton. Ms. Chen. We can take the pups back now. It’ll be about two hours for Sid and one hour for Princess. I can call you or you can swing by and check in with us.

Ms. Chen stood, tugging on Princess’s leash as she approached the counter. Heel. Princess immediately pressed herself up against Ms. Chen’s right leg and gave Sid a tooth-barring growl.

Mr. Walton remained in his seat, pulling on Sid’s leash. If Sid cared about Princess’s growl, he didn’t react. His tail wagged and his pink tongue dangled to the side of his mouth as he panted.

The last thing we wanted in the lobby was a dogfight. Hey, pretty Princess! I tried calming the Doberman.

Princess wagged her docked tail. Her short-cropped ears perked in my direction. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to lick me or bite me.

I’ll see you after lunch, Princess. Ms. Chen handed me the short leash. I’m debating whether to enter Princess in the pet costume contest benefitting the rescue society. I’d be happier if I knew Petunia Jinks wasn’t entering her dog Patches. They always win. Vivienne asked me to sign a petition about Petunia; she has quite a few signatures, you know.

I frowned and directed Princess behind the counter, so she’d quit eyeballing Sid with an I’m-gonna-eat-you glare. I’m sorry you feel that way. I can’t ask Petunia to step down. She’s the only one who’s signed up. And for the record, even if Vivienne gets a thousand people to sign her petition, it won’t matter. Ultimately, it’s our decision here at Scrubadub.

I bet if she backs out, you’d have the whole town sign up. We’re all tired of Patches winning the costume contest year after year. You let me know if she changes her mind. I’ll reconsider our entry, Ms. Chen said as she pivoted, turning to leave. The bell on the door jingled as it closed behind her.

I needed to go check on Petunia. The peculiar hang-up call had me worried. But even stranger, was the fact she didn’t call me back, and when I rang the library, my call went straight to voicemail. A sense of urgency settled in my bones.

Mr. Walton, give me two minutes to walk Princess back to a kennel. Then I’ll grab Sid. I held the leash at an arm’s length and watched the Doberman’s every move.

Mr. Walton nodded. Sure thing, Ms. Steely. Don’t you worry; I’m in no hurry. And as for Petunia Jinks and Patches, I feel the same way. Nobody stands a chance if Patches enters.

Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Walton.

He smiled, returning his attention to the TV mounted on the wall.

After I had the dogs situated, Cuff, and I hightailed it out the front door and we padded down the sidewalk. A solution to our pet contest entry problem occurred to me. Now, if I could convince Petunia to go along with my plan of her judging instead of entering, it’d be a win-win for everyone.

DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF the library, we had to jump across a stream of water rushing down the curb of Caldwell Street. The water flooded the yard in front of the library. A handful of patrons waited by the glass doors. A Closed sign hung in the window.

I glanced at my cell phone to check the time. 11:15 AM. The library rarely closed unless Petunia had to run errands, and she usually took care of those on her lunch break. Her normal lunch hour was from noon to 1 PM.

Between the phone call earlier and the library being closed, something feels wrong. Cuff and I approached the concrete steps leading to the front doors.

Cuff put his nose to the sky and sniffed. I smell nothing wrong, but then again, the fall breeze is strong today.

He was right. An October cool front had blown in this morning, the wind gusting at twenty miles an hour.

Water streamed from the right side of the yard, the grass saturated. Petunia, the head librarian, was also a gardener and very concerned about the environment. Not exactly the kind of person to waste water.

Hey, y’all! Anyone seen Ms. Jinks? I asked the curious patrons near the entrance. I didn’t want to alert anyone to my unease, so I kept my voice as upbeat as possible.

Several shook their heads in response. One young mother with two small children spoke up.

YOR was supposed to start at 11 AM, but the doors are locked and the lights are off.

YOR, Young Ones Read, encouraged small children to explore the world of picture books. Petunia loved her job and she never missed a day. I approached the front doors and peered in the windows. Not a soul stirred behind the locked doors.

Anyone check around back in the gardens? I bet she’s sprucing up the landscaping since we’re holding the pet costume contest here.

I didn’t want to get my shoes soaked, said a young mother with a toddler perched on her hip.

Me either, another mother said. A young boy tugged on her hand.

I gotta potty real bad, the little boy said.

Can you wait a little longer? His mother looked worried.

He pouted.

I’ll take a look. I clicked my tongue to Cuff. Come on, boy.

I stepped off the paved sidewalk into the spongy, wet grass. Thank goodness I opted out of wearing my spiked camo boots. Instead, I’d opted for my old-school Justin Ropers. I tucked my skinny jeans inside the calf-high kicks and squished across the lawn. As I rounded the corner of the building, I surveyed the yard for Petunia.

I have a bad feeling, Chiquita.

Petunia? Are you back here?

I heard rushing water. It sounded like it was coming from further around back. My instinct told me to press on. I entered the back gardens and froze.

Water gushed out of the broken-off spigot. Unattached, the green garden hose sprawled out like a snake in a pool of water. I noticed a giant pipe wrench on the ground under the nozzle. Several feet away from the flooding scene, Petunia Jinks lay in a crumpled heap.

Oh no, Chiquita!

Petunia! I dashed toward her and kneeled. I was careful not to move her in case she’d injured herself. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted slightly on her pale, angelic face. The librarian looked as if she were in a peaceful slumber.

But I knew she was dead before even trying to locate her pulse. My fingers trembled as I pulled down her collar and put two fingers to the side of her neck. I moved them around a few times to be certain. Nothing.

Chiquita, call the police. Cuff nudged my hand.

I noticed what appeared to be a business card near her body. I carefully plucked it from the mud and read it. It was Buzz McCoy’s card. He owned and operated a taxidermy shop on the outskirts of town, but he was also a licensed plumber. Given the current circumstances, I guessed she’d called Buzz about the water issue.

I shoved the card in my purse, scooting away from the body and sitting on the wet gravel. The chilly water soaked through the backside of my jeans.

I stood, digging my cell phone from the pocket of my blazer, and called 911. A female dispatcher answered. She instructed me to stay on the line until help arrived.

While you wait, can you describe what you see?

Cuff busied himself by sniffing around the area. I took in the surrounding scene, focusing on the details. It seemed to help calm my nerves.

Petunia’s wearing a cherry-red long-sleeved shirt under her denim overalls. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and there’s a red bandana holding back her stray curls. One of her pink mud boots is still on, but the other looks like it fell off. It’s a few feet from her body. They’re cute, so Petunia, with whimsical flying books on them. She must’ve been watering. The hose is unattached. I think the spigot broke, and there’s water pouring out. To her right, there’s an old, rusty wheelbarrow, and a denim shirt is splayed over one of the wooden handles.

You’re doing great, Steely. Can you hear the sirens yet?

No.

Hold on, dear, they’re almost there. Keep telling me what’s around you.

Near her... I mean her body, there’s a spilled pint of strawberries on the ground. She probably bought them from Donny Thomas. I purchased some from him too. He stopped by my shop early this morning and asked if I knew anyone hiring summer help. I’d suggested asking Petunia since she always needed an extra pair of hands.

Good, remember to tell the officers about Donny when they arrive. What else do you see?

I will. I glanced around. Her coffee mug is perched on a pile of mulch by the wheelbarrow. The cup is pink and has a breast cancer awareness bow on it. Petunia looks like she’s sleeping. She called me earlier and told me she wasn’t feeling well. I should have come sooner. Maybe she’d still be alive.

My lungs squeezed, taking my breath away. I shook my free hand, trying to stop the tingling in my fingers. My asthma is acting up.

Do you have an inhaler with you? the dispatcher asked.

Cuff rushed to my side. Chiquita, sit down.

I don’t know, maybe. I’ll check.

I sat on the wet ground, ignoring the mud. Cuff hopped onto my lap. I heard approaching sirens. I wheezed as I reached into my handbag and dug around. I found it, gave it a shake, and took two puffs. I dropped the cartridge back inside.

Steely?

Yes, I’m here. I have my inhaler. I hear the sirens.

They’re one block away. How’s your breathing?

Better.

Cuff licked my hand, shivering in my lap.

Several car doors slammed. Voices shouted, calling my name.

I’m here, I tried calling out. But my voice was only a whisper.

I heard footfalls behind me.

Ms. Lamarr, it’s Officer Wyatt Danbury. I’m coming around the side of you. Stay right where you are, okay?

I nodded. They’re here, I told the dispatcher.

You were amazing, Steely. It’s okay. We can hang up now, she said.

Thank you. I disconnected the call.

But nothing is okay about finding your friend dead.

Nothing.

Chapter 2

The cavalry arrived . Officer Danbury helped me to my feet. Movement swarmed around the scene. Voices came from everywhere, yet nowhere in particular.

Cuff barked twice, breaking me out of my stupor.

Chiquita, you okay?

I think so. My arms and legs felt leaden and my head spun. I took a step back.

Don’t go anywhere, Ms. Lamarr, an officer said. We need to ask you a few questions.

I’m not leaving. But I’d like to sit down if it’s okay with you. I’m feeling dizzy. I pointed to a wooden bench near the vegetable patch. Can I wait over there?

The officer nodded. Someone will be with you shortly.

I made my way to the bench. Cuff followed, rambling inside my head.

I hope they don’t think you had anything to do with Petunia dying.

Me too.

Why does this always happen to you?

I melted onto the bench. What do you mean?

Finding dead bodies.

I’ve only found two. I observed the swarm of officers working.

It’s more than most people find in their entire lifetime.

He made a valid point.

Jackson, Officer Tripp, and their lieutenant strode through the swampy yard. Lieutenant Nick Campbell was my ex-boyfriend who’d cheated on me several months ago. I had no tolerance for the jerk.

Jackson and I made eye contact, his expression unreadable. A rush of emotions stirred. Am I in trouble? Is he angry I’m here and somehow involved? Is he worried?

You are making all kinds of assumptions, Chiquita.

I couldn’t help myself.

Jackson spoke briefly with Officer Danbury and headed in my direction. My heart beat against my ribcage. His dark eyes never left mine as he approached the bench.

Hi, I said.

Are you all right?

I wanted to jump up and throw myself into his arms. But I knew better. He was in uniform and on the job. I’m certain the other officers wouldn’t appreciate my public display of affection. I didn’t care what they thought, but I respected Jackson and his duties as a police officer.

I’m okay. As well as I can be for discovering a friend dead.

He stared down at me. His rugged, chiseled face remained stone cold, but his eyes spoke sympathy. He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his trousers.

Danbury says you found her, he said.

I nodded.

Can I ask why you were here? He kept his voice calm.

Is he accusing me of killing Petunia? Sometimes my mouth worked speedier than my brain.

Relax, Steely. Danbury says you were near the deceased when he arrived. We’ll need an official statement from you.

Nodding, I ran a hand through my red tufts of hair. Tears threatened to fall. Sorry. I’m kind of freaking out.

Do what he says, Chiquita. Relax. Breathe.

I took a few deep breaths. Thankfully, my asthma behaved.

Jackson took a step closer. I get it. But this will be easier if you stay calm.

And just like that, my nerves settled. Jackson’s ability to understand me was one thing I adored about him.

Will it be you who takes my statement?

He shook his head. No. Not me. He glanced back